Reflections on Political Obsession

When I wrote a piece for the Wall Street Journal last month titled “Is ‘Trump Derangement Syndrome’ Real?”, I anticipated a robust debate.

What I didn’t foresee was witnessing a live demonstration of exactly what I described.

In that column, I detailed the patterns I observe in my psychotherapy practice weekly.

I refer to this as “obsessive political obsession.” It’s similar to the distressing compulsions centered around certain political figures, where thoughts, heightened emotions, and constant vigilance take up significant mental space.

Just to be clear, TDS isn’t a recognized diagnosis in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, a point I emphasized in my writing.

However, my patients share experiences of political ideologies ruining their days, leading to sleepless nights, and spreading frustration, anger, and anxiety into their work and personal lives.

One woman shared with me that she couldn’t fully enjoy a family vacation because, simply put, “it felt wrong to relax while President Trump was still out and about.”

For many, just hearing “Donald Trump” is enough to put stress on marriages, destroy friendships, and disrupt everyday experiences.

Anxiety has, for some, become a primary way of navigating the world, influencing almost every reaction, often without their awareness.

Once my column went online, I received feedback that almost painfully illustrated my points.

Several of my loudest critics seemed to be reacting to my use of the term “TDS,” rather than engaging with the substance of my argument.

Their quick, emotional reactions exemplified the very patterns I described: destructive thinking motivated by emotion over careful reflection.

In trying to refute my observations, they inadvertently showcased them.

Two days later, when I discussed this topic live on Fox News, the responses intensified.

This segment was quite restrained and clinical. Yet, once shared on social media, it was taken out of context, accompanied by a sensational caption, and circulated among irate feeds.

The emotional messages flooded in, and they were relentless.

Some accused me of condoning fascism, while others labeled me a “pedophile guardian.” One person who claimed to be a therapist even suggested I must be a pedophile myself.

Some messages, including voicemails, expressed a desire for my death.

These responses weren’t from obscure profiles; they came from individuals who portrayed themselves as compassionate, trauma-informed, and committed to mental well-being.

This kind of reaction deeply worries me as a clinician.

My editorial aimed to highlight how emotional reasoning overshadows much of our current political discourse.

Dissent is often viewed as an act of cruelty, and discomfort is perceived as a threat.

When people intertwine their identity with their political beliefs, challenging those beliefs feels like personal affront.

This tendency isn’t limited to one end of the political spectrum.

Critics of my views actually illustrated this tendency in real-time, providing evidence with their anger. Their emotions morph into their arguments.

In a way, they underscored my point more effectively than anything in my writing could.

This is why it’s essential to discuss these symptoms openly.

Our culture encourages individuals to “trust their truth,” act on impulses, and consider normal discomfort harmful.

Sadly, many in my field endorse this mindset. It’s almost celebrated when it targets the “right” side.

This plays out in various ways, such as patients who stop speaking to family members for not sharing their political views or couples who skip family gatherings due to differing opinions on Trump.

These are educated adults who’ve convinced themselves that feeling uneasy is dangerous.

The backlash I’ve faced underlines the consequences of this perspective.

When individuals react with severe hostility during emotional distress, we’re no longer discussing political differences; we’re confronting deeper emotional issues that carry implications beyond mere elections.

We must relearn how to handle emotional discomfort.

Feeling challenged does not equate to being in danger, nor does it grant us a free pass to mistreat those with differing views.

It’s also vital to separate people from their political beliefs.

Your uncle isn’t a bad person for supporting Trump, and your cousin isn’t immoral for voting Democrat.

Lastly, it’s crucial to cultivate resilience.

While therapy is generally aimed at helping individuals manage emotions and confront distorted thinking, the language of therapy has seeped into political discussions, often justifying emotional reactions and impulsive behaviors.

Recent events suggest that TDS isn’t just an individual response, but part of a broader trend that’s reshaping how people think about, engage with, and relate to one another, even within families.

Unless we can untangle emotions from interpretations, confusion will persist.

The real crisis isn’t only in Washington; it’s within the American mindset.